


I Would Do It All Over Again

by whatifsometimes



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 20:57:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatifsometimes/pseuds/whatifsometimes
Summary: Would you rather live the same day for 365 days or lose the love of your life?How many tries will it take for Beca to learn to value her life and the people in it? AU.





	I Would Do It All Over Again

**October 20 th, 2017**

My feet skidded against the empty hallway of Barden High, god fucking dammit, I was going to be late again. School policy stated that if you were late for class for three consecutive days, you were to suffer after school detentions for a week. I'd learned how to play it safe; sleep in two days, make it on time for the third, then repeat until school let out for the summer. But this morning my car wouldn’t start.

The dinosaur was a slightly rusty 1980s Fiat Spider, and I loved it dearly even though it was constantly getting me into trouble.

I raced past my locker all the way to my English class at the end of the empty hallway, twisted the doorknob, and crashed into the classroom.

“Late again, Ms. Mitchell," Mr. Hansen said, sitting at his desk with his fingers steepled. He looked up at me with his lip slightly curled. My heart sunk. "Why am I not surprised?”

The bastard was happy that he had finally caught me. He'd been waiting for this moment since he'd figured out my routine pretty quickly into the year. Every day was like turning a tuning peg on a guitar and pulling the string too tight. I would come in late once—twist—I’d come in late twice—twist, and that was how far it got every single time. Until today, the string had snapped, and Mr. Hansen was bursting at the seams with the chance to finally put me in my place.

“It’s not my fault this time,” I tried to reason, pushing my dignity aside. I would get down on my knees and beg if I had absolutely had to. “My car wouldn’t start—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Beca,” he cut in. “You know the rules. One week detention, starting today after school.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he sneered. “Now, take your seat and stop interrupting my lesson.”

“This is so fucking stupid,” I mumbled, walking to my spot at the back of the class. Everyone was giving me sympathetic looks. I rolled my eyes. They had no idea how bad this was for me.

I dropped my bag under my desk, falling into my seat. I didn’t bother taking out my notebook. I wasn’t expecting to pass English or even graduate with the rest of my class at the end of the year. Like most things in my life school and I had a pretty rough relationship. I hated it, and it hated me.

My parents had given up on me at this point. They tried to come up with a plan to improve my work ethic, they had meetings with the principal and my teachers and even hired me a tutor. None of it worked, of course, because I wasn’t a compliant participant. So, my parents started telling themselves that they were happy that I had even made it this far. And hopefully, they were actually happy because I wasn't going to go any further.

“Late again, Beca? I can't believe you slept in,” Jesse said, nudging me with his elbow. "I thought you promised to be there for Chloe when she came out to her grandparents?"

“I didn’t sleep in,” I grumbled, glaring at him. A headache was starting to come on fast. “My car honestly wouldn’t start this morning. And yes I did promise, and no I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do about it.”

“She’s going to be pissed.”

“Thanks, I didn’t already know that.”

“This was what, the hundredth chance she’s given you? It’s your own fault for trying to be God and play the system, Beca. I guess you could even say it was your car-ma,” Jesse said, then howled with laughter at his own lame joke.

I dropped my head against the desk knowing this was going to be a long day.

* * *

I sulked through math class and endured more teasing about my after school detentions from Amy. Bearing the Australian-accented insults that were hitting me in all my sore spots, was only mildly better than if I was actually attempting the equations our teacher was writing on the board. And when lunchtime rolled around, somebody decided it would be funny to release a cage full of butterflies in my stomach. Just in time to face my beautiful girlfriend that spent most of her time, when she wasn't with me, on a completely different planet from me. One that I never fully understood how I'd managed to land on.

I didn't believe it when Chloe had come up to me last year and asked if I wanted to be her date to the homecoming dance. When I told my friends later, they didn't either. I told her if she was trying to be nice by fulfilling a socially inept person's dreams of becoming homecoming queen, she should pick another loser because I wasn't interested. She laughed, mistaking my self-depreciation for humor. And before I really knew it, I'd gone to homecoming with her, and then our second date, and then a year and five days later, we were still together.

Even though we had lasted, we were by no means a cliché student body president and disgruntled reject combination that somehow fit perfectly together. After three months of dating, Chloe started to realize that I wasn’t a badass-outcast that just needed the perfect girl to straighten me out. She realized that I wasn’t a badass at all. I was just regular and kinda lazy. But she was stubborn, once she loved something, she didn't easily give up on it. And because of that, she forgave me for a lot of shit. When I'd missed countless family dinners, when I got wasted at her birthday party and threw up in her pool, when I forgot our one-year anniversary five days ago, she forgave me for all of it. Some part of me knew she wouldn't keep forgiving me forever, but I guess the bigger, dumbass-part wanted to see how far she'd let me push it.

This time I knew she wouldn’t.

“Ready to face the music?” Jesse asked, coming up beside me. The smell of his pasta was making me queasier than I already felt.

I stared into the cafeteria. Wondered if my face looked as nervous as I felt. “…Nope.”

“It's not like you have much of a choice, mini-me,” Amy said, flanking my other side.

Like most high schools, Barden High had specific tables for specific groups of people. A year ago, Jesse, Amy, and I had upgraded from the table beside the broken foosball game, to the table with the football players, cheerleaders, and a few other kids that managed to make it in with them.

Chloe smiled when she saw me, “hey baby.”

“Hey,” I forced myself to smile back as I sat down beside her. I really did understand if she wanted to break up with me, but it's not like _want_ it to happen. When we weren’t fighting, we were good. I had become used to Chloe. She was a huge part of my everyday routine, and I wasn't a big fan of change.

Amy and Jesse were already conversing with the football players. My two best friends had become a great source of entertainment for the jocks. For Amy and Jesse, it was okay that the jocks weren't always laughing with them because at least they weren’t getting picked on in the halls anymore. I hoped that, if Chloe and I did break up, they’d still be allowed to sit here even if I wasn’t.

Chloe put her hand on my cheek, turning my head so she could kiss me. I pulled away quickly, PDA made me uncomfortable. Another thing Chloe forgave me for.

She moved back to her chair, “do you want to split this sandwich with me? I don’t want to eat too much in case I nervously throw it all back up later."

I couldn't stop the smirk from stretching across my lips, "isn't that more Aubrey's thing?"

"Don't be silly," Aubrey said soothingly to Chloe while glaring menacingly at me. "Your grandparents love you. They'll accept you no matter what." She was doing what any good girlfriend should be by telling Chloe all those cheesy platitudes and reassuring her that everything will be fine. 

It pissed me off knowing she was only doing it to get back at me. My fist closed around the fork I was using to poke at my food. Aubrey had hated me from day one. She saw me for the loser I was and was mad that her best friend had wanted to be with me anyway. She'd be over the moon after today, I was sure.

Chloe reached under the table to squeeze my thigh. It was her way of telling me to play nice. I had the tendency to get into fights, something Chloe hated. She liked nice things and refused to accept that I didn’t fall into that category.

Jesse met my eyes from across the table, tilting his head toward Chloe.

I sighed, feeling my heart in my throat. I didn't think it would be this hard. “Um Chlo', I need to talk to you about something.”

My voice was wobbly, and Chloe’s sapphire eyes snapped to mine, concern shaping her features. Aubrey shifted in her seat like she was trying to get comfortable for the show.

“Alone,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Aubrey.

We ditched our trays, and I twisted my fingers with Chloe's because I wanted to at least one more time. She looked at me, concern turning into fear. I wanted to be hurt that that was her reaction to me taking her hand, but I knew it was an accurate one considering she initiated almost all of our touching in public.

We exited through the back of the cafeteria which led into the quad. The music geeks sat out here because the music room backed onto it from across the cafeteria. They brought their instruments and played songs for the squirrels, and the ants, and the birds.

Currently, someone was strumming out an off-key version of Ed Sheeran’s "Perfect."

I pulled Chloe to a picnic bench under a large tree with leaves that were an array of orange, red, and yellow.

“What’s this about, Beca?” Chloe asked, her eyes bright against the warm hues of the fall season.

I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath.

"Baby," she said softly, cupping my face between her hands and moving close so she could press her lips against mine. They were soft—delicate, something I could easily destroy. She caught my bottom lip between hers. I wrapped my arms around her waist in an automatic response. She was so easy to get lost in.

I pulled away, closed my eyes, and ripped off the bandage. “I was late for class this morning.”

Her eyebrows drew close together, confused. “What?”

“I was late for class, and Hansen gave me detention…after school.”

Chloe’s face was blank at first then realization morphed into anger. She laughed, humorlessly. "Great, so you won't be there when I tell my grandparents. That's just great. As if I wasn't nervous enough."

“I can still go, if your parents wait until five to drive there,” I tried to reason even though I knew her grandparents lived two hours away and had to go to bed around eight. “Or why can't you just tell them without me. Your whole family's going to be there, why is it so important for me to be too?"

“Why is it so important?” She repeated incredulously. She pushed me away, standing up. “Because I want to hold your hand when I tell them. Because I want to look over at you no matter what their reactions are, and know that you're worth all of it. I love my family and I'm glad they're going to be there, but it's not the same. I never make you do anything, but just this once I thought I'd ask because I'm so fucking scared."

I opened my mouth then shut it again, there was nothing I could say.

“Every single time I trust you to do something, you never come through. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is? I have been so patient with you. I have given you so many chances,” Chloe ran her hand through her rust colored-curls. “I keep waiting for you to actually impress me, but every time I end up disappointed.” She laughed, bitterly. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised. Everyone said you'd let me down. I kept hoping you’d change. Do you know why this was so important to me, Beca?”

I stared at her.

“Because I wanted to tell my grandparents that I met the love of my life and I can't keep it a secret anymore,” she turned away from me, but I had already seen the tears in her eyes.

She stood there with her back to me, shoulders shuddering as she choked on sobs for a minute, waiting for me to say something. When I didn't, she left, and I watched her go. 

Despite being together for a year, we hadn’t said I love you to each other. Which, like most issues in our relationship, was my fault. I knew Chloe loved me. I had overheard her telling Aubrey that she did.

It was after a party we went to during our fifth month of dating. We had all gone over to Chloe’s house to crash, and I woke up in the middle of the night horny as hell with Chloe nowhere to be found.

I crept down the stairs, catching the end of something Aubrey was saying.

“…told her yet?”

I could see Chloe sitting on the couch in the living room, the glow of the tv lighting up her face as she bit her lip. “I’m waiting for her to tell me first. I’m scared that if I do it, she won’t say it back. I can't handle that. I know everyone says high school relationships don't last, but I think she’s it for me, Bree. I love her.”

I had booked it back up the stairs, heart rabbiting in my chest. When Chloe came to bed and snuggled against me, I forced my breath to even out and pretended I was sleeping. 

* * *

The last two periods went by like they always did. I didn’t learn a thing because my mind was preoccupied with everything Chloe had told me. Ignoring the way my heart kept squeezing uncomfortably, I wondered if we were still in a relationship, where I’d sit at lunch if I was no longer allowed to sit with her.

When the final bell rang, I left class and went to my locker. Usually, Chloe would be waiting there for me since she had her study period last. Today, she wasn’t. Aubrey was instead, and I knew I probably wasn’t in a relationship anymore.

The one girl—the one person that had seen something in me that was worth loving, had finally given up on me, and all I could think was it was about time. Chloe deserved someone who was going to take her to every dance instead of her having to drag them to it. She deserved someone who would buy her gifts, and accept her kisses in public. She deserved someone that would pay attention to her and tell her how beautiful she was. She deserved someone who could love her back and not be afraid that the world would implode if she said it.

I knew all that, yet I couldn't do it. Hindsight was only good if you got the chance to learn from your mistakes. Which wasn't going to happen in my case because there was no in the world that I wanted other than Chloe, and because I'd fucked up, Chloe didn't want me. 

“Are you happy?” Aubrey sneered.

“Can you move?' I asked, feeling drained. "I have to get to detention."

“Do you even care that she’s bawling her eyes out right now?” Aubrey asked, not moving. “She could barely tell me what was wrong because she was crying so hard. Not that it was hard to figure out. Beca fucked up again, what a surprise.”

“Please move.”

“You are such an ungrateful bitch. You’re incredibly lucky someone like Chloe gave a piece of dirt like you as long of a chance as she did, and you’re not even thankful for it,” people rushed around, curiously glancing at us, then quickly turning away again when they'd notice my glare. “I knew from the beginning you weren’t good for her, but Chloe loves to do charity work.”

I gritted my teeth, “I really need to go.”

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying? Look at me when I talk to you.”

I looked at her. Her face was smug, green eyes piercing.

“Chloe wanted me to let you know that’s it over,” Aubrey gloated. “She can’t handle getting her heart broken by you anymore.”

“Awesome,” I deadpanned. My knees felt weak, and my heart beat faltered. “That’s really awesome. Now, if that’s all, I’m late for detention.”

* * *

I sat at the desk all the way in the back of the detention room. We had two options, sit and stare at the chalkboard in the front of the class, or do our homework. I took out a blank piece of paper and doodled on it. I didn’t know what the homework was for any of my classes and I’d rather die than sit and stare at a blackboard for two hours.

“What are you drawing?” Someone asked.

I looked up to see a dark-skinned girl staring at me intently. I glanced down at my drawing, a bunch of overlapping squiggles. “Nothing.”

“What does nothing look like?” A honey blonde that was sitting next to the first girl asked me.

I had no idea how I missed these people when I first came into the room. I pushed the paper along the surface of the desk, so they could see it. “I guess like that? I don’t know.”

“When I look at that I see someone that’s lost,” the honey blonde said. “What do you see C.R.?”

C.R. narrowed her eyes at the paper, “you’re right, Stacie. This looks like someone who’s in desperate need of direction.”

“Um, actually, it’s none of those things,” I interjected while thinking what the fuck was wrong with these people. “It’s really just a bunch of random scribbles.”

“‘Art is in the eye of the beholder, and everyone will have their own interpretation’,” Stacie quoted. “I interpret a whole lot more in your drawing than a bunch of random scribbles.”

“Okay, sure.” I internally rolled my eyes, wondering how they ended up in detention. They seemed like nerdy, do-gooder types.

"So, are you lost?" Stacie asked. Her tone made it seem like she already knew I was.

"No," I lied. C.R. cocked an eyebrow and I sighed. "Even if I was, I doubt you two would have a map I could read."

"People can surprise you," C.R. said.

For the remaining hour and a half, I tried to see the lost person Stacie and C.R. were seeing in my drawing. I tried not to think of Chloe sitting at the dining room table in a house that smelled like soap and mothballs, eyes red and puffy for all the wrong reasons. I wondered if she'd even come out to her grandparents today after what would happen. It obviously didn't change the fact that she was gay, but maybe she'd hold off for another time.

* * *

“Honey, why are you home?” Mom asked, coming into the foyer with an apron on over her clothes. “We thought you’d stay over at Chloe’s?”

That was what I normally did. I would spend every weekend at Chloe’s house, playing video games with Jesse and Amy on the Beales' huge tv while Chloe sat on my lap, pouting for my attention. At night, my friends would leave, and I’d work my mouth and fingers all over Chloe’s body. Sex was the only part of our relationship that I wasn’t severely lacking in.

“Chloe broke up with me,” I said, flatly.

Mom burst into tears, and Dad stepped out of his office to see what was going on.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?” He looked at me. His hair was graying at the sides and his eyes were a tired shade of Beca's own stormy blue. “Beca, why is your mother crying?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, kinda panicked. “I just told her that Chloe broke up with me.”

“Oh,” he frowned, wrapping his arm around Mom. He looked back at me, “are you okay?”

“Is Mom?” I asked, seriously. She had taken the news worse than I had.

“She will be,” Dad said, leading her back into his office. I heard him say, “come on, Sarah. Crying isn’t going to help anything” before the door shut.

By that point, I was done. All I wanted to do was go to bed and move on from this fucking horrible day. I didn't bother showering or brush my teeth. I just stripped down to my bra and boxers and slid under the covers. Shutting my eyes, I hoped things would look better tomorrow morning.


End file.
